Taming a Tiger
by pixieixip
Summary: Humorous and witty Hawke is trying to survive in Kirkwall after fleeing Lothering. But she grows more outraged at the treatment of the mages every day. When she falls in love with a radical healer who has taken a spirit into his body, will she be able to convince the fade spirit that she is not a mere distraction for the healer but a powerful helping force in the mage revolution?
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first attempt at writing any sort of story. Ever. I don't promise that it will be phenomenal, but I wanted to at least give it a shot. Please leave reviews. If I find people are actually enjoying it, I will try to write more and upload often. Thank you for reading. :)**

Chapter 1:

Hawke

The first thing she felt was the sensation of hands running over her body. They were emanating a soothing aura, which made her whole body feel calm and relaxed. Her muscles did not ache, her mind was not racing through all of the responsibilities she had, and that laceration she received when she and Carver had fought those slavers to get Mother's will felt like it had vanished.

_Healing magic_, she thought. _Maker's breath, what have you gotten yourself into this time Hawke_?

She felt the stranger's hands glide over her feet, up one leg and back down the other. Then they moved to her hands, grazing over her forearms, her biceps and finally to her shoulders. The mystery hands moved to her stomach, which made her wonder – _Am I naked right now? Well, I hope whoever is doing this healing is enjoying the view._

The hands made their way efficiently to her sides and maneuvered up her torso, grazing over her breasts, over her collarbone and up to her neck. She couldn't help but think about how wonderful the hands felt as they maneuvered along her body, as they started reversing the pattern they had just made along her body. They were warm and gentle, but also firm and purposeful.

_I wonder who these hands belong to_, she mused.

The mystery hands made their way back up her body, stopping again at her neck. Hawke expected the hands to retrace their path again, but was surprised when she felt a hand brush away a piece of hair from her face, before resting tenderly on her face. It was as though the person behind these hands felt pained somehow. She could feel eyes analyzing her face, almost pleading that she would wake up. She heard a loud, mournful sigh as the hand lightly stroked her cheek.

_I supposed I've reveled in this unexpected relaxation for long enough_. _Perhaps I should open my eyes now. Besides, as much as I'm enjoying this affection, I'm dying to know whose hands these are._

With that, she brought her own hand up and placed it on top of the hand stroking her cheek, gently nuzzling it. Hawke grinned when she felt the thumb stroking her cheek immediately freeze and the muscles in the mysterious healer tense. She opened her eyes and found herself staring into a pair of warm amber eyes that were opened wide with surprise. They belonged to a man with shoulder-length, honey-blonde hair that was pulled back into a half ponytail. The man had a prominent nose and a strong jaw line, which was lightly sprinkled with stubble. He was handsome and Hawke liked what she saw.

"You know, I could get used to waking up to face like yours," she told the man. She grinned wider and the man went from looking shocked to donning a gentle smile that had a hint of sorrow behind it. Hawke couldn't help but wonder what was causing that sadness as she gazed into the man's eyes. The stranger shook his head lightly, as though he was pushing away some unwanted thought.

"I'm glad to see you've awakened," the man stated plainly. Looking back into her eyes, he added with a wink and a playful, lopsided smile, "And I'm pleased you like the view."

_Now there's a smile to melt your heart_, Hawke thought, as she let out a soft, pensive murmur. Propping herself up on her elbow, she allowed herself to take in the rest of the man's features. He was tall and broad shouldered, obviously strong. He wore a blue and green coat, lined with feathers and on his back rested his staff. Hawke looked at his strong hands and remembered them gliding up her stomach, over her breasts, then her collarbone… She glanced down and noticed that she was not naked like she had thought; however, she wasn't wearing anything other than her small clothes.

She looked back at the handsome stranger, flashing him a seductive smile and purred, "I hope you've enjoyed the view too. Although, usually I get to know someone before I let them take my clothes off and lay me on a bed."

Hawke noticed a spark in his eyes and a soft grunt when she said that, which quickly changed into slight embarrassment as he realized what she had just said – and that his hand was still on her cheek. He coughed and quickly pulled his hand away from her cheek, which made her giggle. Watching him squirm, she couldn't help herself.

"I can't be that bad, surely," she teased.

He frowned. "No, you aren't bad… I mean, you are more than lovely…"

Hawke giggled again, amused at how the man was tripping over his words in an attempt to not offend her, "So, you were enjoying the view."

The man's amber eyes, stared back into Hawke's eyes as she tried to make herself look as innocent as possible. Hawke smiled at him, fluttering her eyelashes. The man laughed, giving her another lopsided grin, "Andraste's arse, you are a pain. But, yes, I will admit, you pull it off quite nicely. I've certainly treated patients who were far less pleasing on the eye than you are. Speaking of which, how are you feeling?"

She sat up and winced, feeling a sharp pain in her ribs and a mild discomfort in her wrist. "Well, I certainly won't be doing any back flips any time soon."

Hawke looked around her and saw she was in what looked like a clinic. It was small, but very clean. She was lying on a bed on the left side of the room that was not quite touching the wall. To her left there was a table with various potions and salves on it. On the opposite wall, there was another bed and another table that matched the one near her. At the back of the clinic, there was another door.

_Perhaps for storage…_ she wondered, _or maybe he sleeps back there._

She turned back to the man. "Where am I, by the way?"

"In my clinic, clearly," the man replied, trying to hold back a smile.

_Oh, he's cute when he's playful_, she thought to herself.

"Is that so? And how might I have gotten into your clinic, o powerful healer?" she asked.

"I carried you."

"Carried me?" she asked him, genuine surprise in her voice.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, you weren't too heavy. Besides, I couldn't very well let you die right outside my door. What would that do to my reputation as a healer?" he grinned as he spoke.

Hawke's brow furrowed and she cocked her head as she tried to remember what she had been doing before she awoke to this man's pleasant touch.

_I remember talking to Varric. We were at the Hanged Man… I was supposed to find somebody…_

As if reading her mind, the man continued, "I heard screams and fighting outside my door. When I came out, I saw you surrounded by thugs. It looked like you must have taken out a good number of them, as there were corpses littered at your feet…"

_Thugs. Right, I was walking through Darktown when they attacked me…_

"… you kept fighting them and they kept dropping like flies. I was impressed. That's when I saw their leader sneak up behind you. He took his sword and…"

_He hit me in the back of the head with the handle. The bastard. I fell to the ground, landed on my wrist. Then he kicked me in the head._

"… you stopped moving and he stomped on your ribcage. That's why your side hurts, by the way, he broke a couple ribs."

Hawke could tell he was trying not to smile when she grimaced.

"Anyway," he continued, "I took out my staff and killed the rest of the group. Then I brought you back here, to my clinic, where I've been healing you."

"Thanks for that, by the way," she said, still trying to piece together why she had been in Darktown.

"You're welcome. It's what I do," he replied, before continuing, "Let me ask you something. Why in blazes did you decide to walk through Darktown on your own?"

_I'm trying to figure that out myself, my dear._

"I can't remember," she answered, still furrowing her brows in contemplation. She looked into his warm eyes again and gave him another sultry smile, "although, if I had known walking through Darktown alone meant waking up to a handsome man caressing my body, I may have done it sooner."

He smiled another heart-melting, lopsided smile and said softly, "You must be crazy, sweetheart. Darktown is almost as bad as the Deep Roads."

As soon as he mentioned the Deep Roads, a light went off in her head. _The expedition! Of course!_

Varric had told her that they needed to find a good way into the Deep Roads and that there was a rumor that a healer who also happened to be a Grey Warden was in town. They had visited Lirene's Imports, where Lirene explained that the healer's clinic was in Darktown. She had told Hawke to look for the lit lantern and Hawke left immediately for Darktown. It hadn't really occurred to her that going alone would be a bad idea. She often wandered around the streets of Kirkwall alone. It was relaxing for her and she hadn't expected Darktown to be much different.

She beamed at the healer and exclaimed, "And you must be Anders! I was looking for you."


	2. Chapter 2

**I hope you guys are enjoying the story so far. I'm having fun writing it. :)**

Chapter 2

Anders

Anders gaped at the woman he had just rescued. She was smiling widely and staring expectantly at him with bright, icy blue eyes.

"You were looking for me?" he asked, not bothering to hide the surprise he was feeling.

She nodded her head. "Mhm! Though, I pictured our meeting a little differently." The woman sighed playfully, "Thugs. They have no consideration for other people's plans, huh?"

He gave her a smirk, his face still one of confusion and responded, "None at all."

"Anyway, the reason I was looking for you -," she began, but Anders cut her off.

"Slow down! Could you at least tell me your name first?" he interrupted.

She stared blankly at him for a moment before responding. "I'm Hawke," she said, as if introducing herself had never crossed her mind.

"Hawke," he repeated. The name suited her. Her movements were graceful and precise, while her wit was sharp and quick. Anders got the feeling that this was a woman who found what she wanted, honed in and got it. "Lovely, and I'm Anders. Now that we've been properly introduced, what was it that brings you here? Aside from almost dying on my doorstep."

Anders grinned at her as she rolled her eyes at that last part. He wasn't sure what it was about this woman, but he couldn't help but feel lighthearted around her.

Hawke gave him a playful bow and spoke, "A pleasure, massere. So, anyway, the reason I was looking for you is because I'm planning an expedition into the Deep Roads –"

"Why in Andraste's name would you want to go into the Deep Roads?" he blurted, effectively interrupting her again. She stared at him with an eyebrow raised, her eyes asking if he had anything else to say or if she could finish. Anders gave her an apologetic smile and gestured with his hand for her to continue.

"As I was saying," she continued. "I'm planning an expedition into the Deep Roads. Or rather, Varric, Carver and I are…"

Hawke went on describing the expedition, a dwarf with an unhealthy obsession with his crossbow and her broody brother, but Anders wasn't really paying attention. He was taking the time to simply look at her. Her icy blue eyes were accompanied by a small, delicate nose and full lips that surrounded a killer smile. _I wonder if her lips are as soft as her skin_, he mused as he glanced at where his hand had rested on her face. He noticed a light sprinkle of freckles, trailing from one cheek to the other. She had chocolate brown hair that fell just past her shoulders and Anders thought about his hands tangled in her wavy locks. He glanced down at her nearly naked body and his manhood twitched in approval. She was much shorter than he was and had curves in all the right places. Behind her slim waist and feminine physique was also a layer of toned muscle, which made Anders think she was probably much stronger than she looked. Her breasts were full, but not too big and he only wished he could turn her around to get a proper look at her butt. _Maker, she is sexy_, he thought. He hadn't found anyone so attractive in a very long time, especially not since he and Justice had merged in Amaranthine.

Anders was interrupted from his thoughts when he heard Hawke mention the Grey Wardens.

"… so rumor has it that you're a Grey Warden and –"

A flicker of blue passed through his amber eyes and he found himself interrupting Hawke for the third time. "You were looking for me because I'm a Grey Warden? Why does that matter? Have the Wardens sent you to bring me back? Well, I'm not going. Those bastards made me get rid of my cat. Poor Ser Pounce-A-Lot."

Anders could tell she was trying to suppress a laugh and he couldn't tell what for. He just assumed it was about his cat and that annoyed him. He had loved that cat and it broke his heart to part with his furry friend. Before she could respond, he continued.

"Before you start making fun of me and my cat, Ser Pounce-A-Lot was a gift from a good friend. I had to give him to a friend in Amaranthine because the new Warden Commander thought he made me too soft." he scowled as he recalled Rosalyn Cousland heading back to Denerim to be with King Alistair. Anders couldn't joke with or playfully hit on the new Warden Commander the way he had with Rosalyn. He had stayed at the Keep because he felt he owed it to Rosalyn for conscripting him into the Wardens, effectively saving him from the wrath of the templars. It was hard, particularly because the new Warden Commander did not hide his mistrust of mages and found ways to restrict Anders abilities, but he remained at the Keep. However, once he was forced to give up his cat, he had had enough. He decided to leave that night and after months of persistent hassling, Justice convinced Anders to merge with him so they could bring freedom to mages across Thedas.

Hawke reached out a hand and gently touched Anders' face, still trying diligently to keep from laughing. He felt a jolt through his body as her soft hand made contact with his cheek and his expression softened. "I'm not laughing at your cat. In fact, I find it rather cute," she said, giggling as his scowl returned when he heard her refer to him as "cute."

_I'm not cute. Puppies and kittens are cute,_ he thought. _I'm a powerful mage. There's nothing cute about that._

As if she was reading his mind, she teased him, batting her eyelashes at him innocently. "Oh, did I say cute? I didn't mean cute. When I said you and your feline friend were cute, I meant that Ser Pounce-A-Lot simply adds to your mysterious, sexy allure."

Anders narrowed his eyes and she laughed. She had a beautiful laugh. It was carefree and rang with pure joy. He still wasn't sure why she was laughing, but he knew he didn't want her to stop. He gave a small chuckle and smiled at her.

"Well, serah Hawke, if you aren't laughing at my cat, why are you laughing?" he asked, his eyes analyzing her face.

It took her a moment to refocus before she responded, "I'm laughing because you thought I was going to drag you back to the Wardens. If that was the case, don't you think I would have waited for you to at least give me my clothing back before I mentioned you being a Warden? I mean, I can't imagine I'd be terribly effective at forcing you to come with me in the nude."

Anders considered her answer. It made sense. _So, she's not just funny and sexy as all hell, she's actually smart too._

"Perhaps you're right," he replied. Then, placing his finger pensively on his chin, he added, "Although, I might be more willing to follow you if you were naked."

She smiled coyly at him and retorted, "I'll have to keep that in mind."

He felt another pang of arousal deep within him. He wanted her. A familiar voice in his head appeared. _"Anders, what are you doing?" Go away, Justice. I'm not doing anything, we're just talking. "Anders, you cannot allow yourself to get attached this woman, we have a duty to complete." Yes, I know, Justice. "Then, find out what she wants and send her on her way. You don't need such a distraction."_

Anders sighed. As passionate as he was about the plight of the mages, he sometimes missed the way things were before he and Justice became one. Sure, he didn't need the distraction but damn if he didn't want it. He considered telling Justice to simply sod off so he could work his charms on the lovely Hawke, the way he certainly would have only a year prior. He'd have had her out of the rest of her clothes in no time and they would have explored each other's bodies like animals until they fell asleep from exhaustion.

Instead he simply asked her, "If you aren't here to take me back to the Wardens, then what do you want?"

"Maps. To the Deep Roads. If we're going to make this expedition work, we need a good entrance. We figured if anyone has maps of the Deep Roads, it'd be a Warden," she explained.

"Maps," he mumbled, debating whether or not to give them to her. "_Give her the maps, Anders. Then she can be on her way and you can get back to work._" _But, if I give them to her, she'll just leave… "Exactly, Anders." What if I don't want her to leave yet? "Anders…" No. Maybe she can help us. She's a mage too. "Anders, don't be foolish…" It's not foolish, Justice. I just want to talk to her a little longer. Maybe – ._

Anders' internal debate with Justice was cut short when he heard Hawke's voice again. "So, do you have maps to the Deep Roads or not? I'm willing to pay you for them." She added with a wink, "Or give you a fair return."

" A favor for a favor. Does that sound reasonable? I have the maps, but I want your help with something in exchange." The words came out of his mouth before he had time to think about them. "You help me, I'll help you."

Hawke grinned a wide, playful grin. "Can we discuss what I'm agreeing to help you with first? I don't do anything involving children or animals."

Anders couldn't help but smirk at her jocular tone. "Sweetheart, if it were that kind of favor, we'd be doing it alone," he flirted. He was acutely aware that his words had made Hawke bite her lip and her skin to flush lightly. The thought pleased him, but he continued explaining what he wanted Hawke to do. "There's a reason I'm in Kirkwall. I came here to help a friend. A mage. He –"

"I'm in." Her lighthearted and soft features had quickly turned harsh and determined. Anders could sense an underlying anger to her expression.

"What?" he asked. The sudden change in her demeanor surprised him.

"I said I'm in." she stated with conviction. "Maps or no maps, I will not stand aside while another mage suffers. Whatever aide your friend needs, I am happy to assist with delivering it. What do you need me to do?"

Anders was momentarily stunned. He was in awe of her willingness to help a fellow mage without any explanation required. _She just gets better by the minute_, he thought.

"Well, Hawke," he began, "the mage in question is named Karl. He is a prisoner in the wretched Circle and I fear that the templars will eventually make him Tranquil. I plan to get him out before that can happen. " Anders noticed Hawke take in a deep breath, closing her eyes as she exhaled. She was clearly very upset and he considered changing his mind. Maybe he shouldn't tell her about Karl. But, when she opened her eyes, the fire that was behind them convinced Anders that it was far too late for that.

He continued, "We're to meet in the Chantry tonight. Help me sneak him past the templars. If we're lucky, everyone will walk out alive."

Anders watched Hawke stand up and he thought behind the obvious anger she was feeling, there was a hint of sorrow and pain.

She spoke to him directly, all hint of humor from earlier gone. "I will be there. Show me where my things are and I will go prepare." Hawke touched his arm and her voice softened, "I will do everything in my power to ensure your friend knows the freedom that every mage in Thedas should know."

Anders gazed into her determined blue eyes and was speechless. He closed his eyes and placed his hand on top of hers and breathed deeply. He opened them and simply said, "Thank you."

She nodded and he directed her toward a chair near the table that held all the potions where he had draped her clothes. He decided to give her some privacy and turned his back on her while she dressed.

_Funny_, he mused. _I've just spent the last few hours running my hands up and down her body. Now she's putting clothes on and I'm thinking of privacy._

"Where is my staff?" he heard a slightly panicked voice ask.

Anders turned around and saw a fully clothed Hawke staring at him inquisitively. She wore a deep sapphire blue robe that a gold satin trim along bottom and around the hood. It fit her perfectly. _Though, it could probably use a wash,_ he thought as he noticed the blood that speckled the garment. She also donned brown, knee-high boots that laced up in the front.

He gave her a smile and walked toward the back of the clinic. He had placed her staff against the wall near the door to his room just out of sight as a precaution in case she had woken up in a panic and tried to lunge for it and kill him. People were unpredictable when they recovered from trauma and he always tried to stay safe. Anders grabbed the staff, walked back to Hawke and handed it to her. She visibly relaxed as she grabbed hold of the long staff, which was topped with a golden woman who had her arms spread out as two curved spires reached up on either side of her.

He was curious about the staff, but decided not to ask her about. His curiosity must have been evident on his face, however, because Hawke looked at him with sad eyes and said, "It was my father's."

Anders opened his mouth to tell her he understood, but before he could, Hawke cut him off. "Thank you again for saving me. I will see you tonight at the Chantry." And with that she was gone from the clinic, leaving Anders staring after her.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Hawke

Hawke was angry, the way she always became angry when she heard of mages suffering. _Bloody templars_, she thought. _What right do they have to cage mages like wild animals simply for being born?_ At that moment, she didn't care about Anders' Warden maps or the expedition or the tiny hovel she called home with her mother, brother, and uncle. None of it mattered. Why should she be allowed happiness and freedom from the Circle, when so many others would never get the chance? What made her so special that she was able to know and love her family, while other children were ripped away forever?

She thought about her father.

-He was a good man and one of the most powerful mages she had ever known. He had escaped the tower in Kirkwall and fled to Fereldan with her mother. The two moved around a bit, until they settled in on the small village of Lothering. They chose Lothering because it was easy to make a simple, quiet living in such a small town and there wasn't a lot of templar presence. Lothering was also close to the Korcari Wilds and after gaining the trust of the Chasind folk by trading with them and healing their sick, he knew he and his family would have somewhere to hide if they were being hunted.

After the children were born, he spent even more time ensuring that their little family was safe. His children were his heart and he made sure each of them knew it well. Her father was always laughing and playing with them; encouraging them to become strong, independent people; and teaching them to be compassionate and understanding. When one of his children wept, he was always there to wipe the tears away and make them feel better. He was their rock. He was Hawke's hero.

Hawke recalled the first time she realized she had the gift of magic and her father's reaction. She was around 5 years old and something had upset her. She couldn't remember what, but she remembered crying and screaming as her father tried to calm her down.

"Now come on, sweetpea." she remembered her father's voice. "Calm down now, everything will be okay. You're Daddy's big girl, right?"

"NO!" she had wailed. She stamped her foot and threw her hands out in anger. And suddenly the small wooden box that had been sitting on her father's desk was on fire. She immediately stopped crying and stared at her father, unsure what his reaction was going to be. His eyes were opened so wide, she thought they were going to burst out of his head. He looked at the fire and back at Hawke. After walking toward the blazing box and putting out the flame with the small mug of water he had left on his desk, he turned around. Much to Hawke's surprise, her father was not angry. He had a grin that split his face from ear to ear as he ran to her, picked her up and twirled her in the air. He told her how proud he was of her and how much he loved his little girl; that he knew how scared she must feel, but that he would help her to master her gift and learn to protect herself.

"You aren't mad, Papa?" she had sniffed, looking down at the ground, embarrassed about her outburst.

"Oh, my little Karina," he beamed, scooping her up and placing her on the desk next to the box she had just engulfed in flames. "Of course not. I love you, sweetpea." He kissed her forehead and wrapped her in his gentle arms. Hawke would never forget that night; how lucky she was to have a father who adored and would protect her, no matter what. -

When she realized she was outside Gamlen's hovel, Hawke stopped. She closed her eyes, sighed and whispered, "I miss you, Papa." Then, she walked inside to bathe, change into a new set of clothing and decide whom she was going to take with her to the chantry.

* * *

Anders

"_Foolish."_ Anders was still staring at the door, trying to make sense of Hawke's sudden change in demeanor and hasty exit, when Justice started to lecture him.

_Go away, Justice. _

"_You've just told a complete stranger your plans to free Karl."_

_I know. But she understands. It was in her eyes, she's a mage too. She wants to help._

"_She could turn you in." _

_She won't. _

"_You don't even know the girl. You could have templars at your door tonight."_

_If she was going to turn me in, she could have done so even without my mention of Karl. In case you forgot, I just spent the last few hours healing her. I'm an apostate and she knows it. She could turn me in on those grounds alone._

"_You should have given her the maps and been done with it."_

_Shut up, Justice._

"_What if she turns you into the templars and simply takes them from you now?"_

_Shut. Up._

"_She could go to the Wardens too. Send you back to Amaranthine. Maybe she'll make a deal."_

_SHUT. UP._

"_Then everything we've worked toward will be lost. Your freedom will be lost, the freedom of all mages will be unattainable, Karl will be lost."_

"I SAID SHUT UP!" Anders slammed his fists on the table as he roared. He had had enough of Justice's lecturing and arguing. He was aware he had just met Hawke; that he just trusted her with the fate of a man he cared for dearly; that he had essentially asked her to take on the templars with him. Sure, she could easily turn him in for being an apostate or for conspiring against the Circle, but something told him, she wouldn't.

Maybe it was the way she didn't back away from him when she realized she was in a strange place with a strange man who had stripped her of her robes so he could heal her wounds. Wounds she wasn't even aware that she had. Maybe it was how she brought out a side of himself that Anders thought was long gone. A side of him that was carefree, flirtatious and happy. Maybe it was the sincerity he saw in her eyes and felt in her touch when she grabbed his arm and told him she would do her best to free Karl. Maybe it was how quickly she went from a flirtatious, playful woman to one filled with rage, determination and pain.

Whatever it was, he couldn't help but trust her. Anders wanted to know more about her. He slunk down in the chair where Hawke's things had been.

_Who are you, Hawke? How old are you? Where are you from? How did you come to be a free apostate in Kirkwall?_ he thought to himself. _And what has caused you so much pain?_

Anders went over the events of the evening in his head. When he had seen her fighting all of those thugs outside his door, he was in awe. She moved so gracefully and each swing of her staff was executed with purpose. He hadn't wanted to distract her, in case it threw off her precision, so he had simply watched from afar. When he saw the thug leader sneak up behind her and knock her out, he ran to her aid, angry with himself for not stepping in sooner.

Once he'd carried her into the clinic, he began the healing process. When she hadn't woken up after an hour and a half, he was concerned she wouldn't and he felt guilty again. That's when Anders had looked at her delicate face and before he knew it he was brushing her hair away and stroking her cheek.

Then, her hand was on his and she was nuzzling into his touch, a beautiful smile stretching across her face. Anders had frozen. _She must think she's waking up to her lover's touch_, he had thought. He was certain she would open her eyes, realize it was his hand, not her lover's and lash out in fear and anger. But, instead, she had opened her beautiful, blue eyes, gazed into his, continued smiling and calmly and flirtatiously addressed him.

As they continued talking, he had realized that he really liked the stunning, sassy, half-naked mage sitting in front him. He only wished she was fully naked and in _his_ bed and for a different reason.

Then suddenly she was angry, determined, passionate. It was as though Hawke had forgotten about the maps completely and cared only about helping Anders save Karl. And then she was gone, leaving him full of curiosity and desire.

Anders closed his eyes and put his head in his hands, knowing he could never pursue Hawke. Justice, for one, would never agree to it. Although, he was pretty sure he could handle Justice. More importantly, he would break her heart. He was devoted to helping the mages in Thedas earn their freedom, no matter the cost.

He thought about the fire he saw behind her eyes, when she declared her willingness to help any mage achieve the freedom they deserve. _Maybe it could work,_ he considered. _Maybe she could be the one to look past Justice and me, to help us fight against the oppression the mages face._

Then Anders saw the pain in her eyes, the heartbreak, and the sorrow. He shook his head. _No. I won't do that to her. She and I can never be._


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you to everyone who has been reading so far and for the favs/follows. It really means a lot to me. :)**

Chapter 4

Anders

It was dark and the streets were empty, aside from the assorted groups of bandits and thugs that preyed on anyone wandering Kirkwall at night. They were easy enough to avoid if you stuck to the shadows and stayed alert. Large groups of thugs weren't the best at keeping a low profile. A cool breeze blew through the air and danced across Anders' face. He was leaning against a wall in the shadows near the Chantry, anxiously awaiting Hawke's arrival. He'd been there for half an hour and there was no sign of her.

_Maybe she changed her mind_, he thought. But, when he pictured the fury that flamed in her eyes, he had a hard time believing she had.

It dawned on him that when she had left his clinic, she would have been walking through Darktown alone. Again. Anders cursed himself for not walking her home like he had originally planned. However, Hawke had left so abruptly and taken him so off guard that he hadn't thought to follow her.

_What if something happened to her?_ he mused, feeling a little concerned. He tried to reason with himself, "_I would have seen her body on the way here, right? Thugs aren't exactly known for cleaning up after themselves._" Besides, he was fairly confident that in the state she was in when she left, Hawke could easily have razed the entire Free Marches on her own if she had needed to.

Anders closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes again, his heart jumped as Hawke materialized around the corner. She had changed into a pair of black pants that were loose enough to give her movement, but tight enough they accentuated her toned legs and bottom. The pants were tucked into a pair of black, knee-high, leather boots and she wore a sleeveless black bodice that laced up in the front and definitely highlighted her bosom. Her hair was pulled into a single, loose braid that she had tied off with a red ribbon. Hawke looked incredibly sexy and it took an embarrassing amount of willpower for Anders not to give into the carnal desire growing in him just from looking at her.

_We have a job to do, _he reminded himself and found himself wondering if she was still as angry as she had seemed when she left his clinic. As much as he had been in awe of her passionate determination to help Karl, he didn't want his burdens to weigh down on the lighthearted, jovial woman who had playfully nuzzled his hand and shamelessly flirted with him earlier.

Anders walked forward to greet her, "Hawke. I was beginning to think you weren't coming. I trust you made it home okay."

Hawke scoffed at him, "I couldn't let some stupid brutes ruin the perfectly fine job you did of healing my wounds." Then she gave him an innocent smile and teased, "What would that do to your reputation as a healer?"

Anders smiled as she threw his jest from earlier right back at him. "I'm glad to know you're so worried about my reputation, sweetheart."

She flashed him a lighthearted smirk before her eyes suddenly took on the dark and serious tone that they had when she had gotten so angry in his clinic earlier. "Besides," she said softly, "I can't think of a better way to repay you for saving my life, than doing this."

Hawke's blue eyes bore into him, silently asking him to trust her. Anders nodded and as quickly as the severity took over her eyes, it was gone.

"Before we go inside, let me introduce you to my companions," she said brightly and Anders turned his gaze to the three people who followed her.

First, there was the dwarf. What he lacked in height, he made up for in muscle. He had blonde hair that was pulled back in a ponytail, a large nose and no beard. A gold earring glittered in the moonlight and the amount of hair on the dwarf's chest could easily be considered its own forest. _That must be where his beard went_. On his back was a large and intimidating crossbow.

"Varric Tethras, at your service," the dwarf said, lightly bowing. He took the crossbow off his back, gave it a kiss and added, "and this here's Bianca."

"Bianca?" Anders inquired, equally amused and surprised that the dwarf had not only given his crossbow a name, but given it a female name at that.

"That's right, Blondie." Varric answered. "Bianca's the most faithful woman I've ever been with. She doesn't mind throwing back pints with me at the Hanged Man, she never nags and she can kick some serious ass."

Anders laughed. He liked this dwarf already. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you Bianca and you too Varric."

Next, there was a younger man whose features looked very similar to Hawke's. _Her brother? Has to be._ He had short brown hair and a strong jaw. His eyes were almost the same color blue as Hawke's, but they were resentful and angry rather than bright and playful. He was broad shouldered and carried a large two-handed sword on his back.

"This is my brother, Carver," Hawke explained.

"And you must be the apostate who convinced my sister that taking on templars was a good idea," Carver said, his voice dripping with contempt.

Anders' skin bristled with irritation and he could feel Justice stirring within him. "Actually, I happen to be the apostate who saved your sister's life. You're welcome." he retorted.

Hawke started laughing and told Anders that her brother would probably have thanked him more if he hadn't healed her, so Carver could finally get out from under her shadow. Carver opened his mouth to respond to his sister's accusation, but instead just scowled at her. It was an impressive scowl. In fact, Anders had never seen such an impressive scowl, until he turned to look at Hawke's last companion.

"And this is Fenris," Hawke told him.

Fenris was a slender, but obviously very strong elf with a massive battle-axe resting on his back. He had long, silver hair and large emerald green eyes. His body was covered in faint blue markings that radiated magic. _Does he have lyrium veins in his skin?_

"Pleased to meet you, Fenris," Anders said to the somber elf.

The elf said nothing and simply continued to scowl at Anders.

"What a pleasant bunch you've got here, Hawke," he commented.

"Don't take it personally, Blondie," Varric interjected, "Fenris is practicing his brooding for a competition in a few weeks. He can't break his training for anything."

The elf shot Varric a menacing look, before turning to Hawke. "We should get moving. We came here on a mission. Standing about and exchanging pleasantries is helping no one."

Hawke rolled her eyes at the broody elf and then addressed Anders, "Fenris is right. We should get inside the Chantry."

Anders nodded and began walking to the doors of the Chantry. "Follow me, then. And let me do the talking. You keep an eye out for templars."

As they all entered the Chantry, Anders tried to keep a confident demeanor, but inside he was terrified. He had a really bad feeling in the pit of his stomach that he had spent a good effort trying not to think about. Now that he was actually in the Chantry, it was all he could think about. _Please be okay, Karl. I'm here to save you._

They walked in silence down the main corridor and ascended the flight of stairs leading to the eastern balcony of the building. When they reached the top of the staircase, Anders saw Karl with his back turned standing near a large cabinet and a bed the Chantry allowed those seeking refuge to utilize from time to time.

_Thank the Maker, he's alive_, he thought, relieved as he approached his friend. _My fears were for nothing. Everything is just fine –_

"I knew you would come, Anders. I knew you would never give up," a monotone voice pierced the silence and his relief was torn apart, as his terror rose anew.

"Why are you talking like that, Karl?" Anders asked. Deep down, he knew why, but he hoped he was wrong. He could feel his panic rising and Justice stirring. _Please, no. No, no, no. Don't let me be too late. Maker, please._

"I was too rebellious like you," Karl responded, turning around to reveal the distinctive brand on his forehead that Anders had feared. Karl had been made Tranquil. "The templars knew I had to be made an example of –"

"Karl! No!" Anders cried. He couldn't believe his eyes – he refused to believe. This was all a nightmare, Karl wasn't Tranquil. He couldn't be. He stared at the shell of the powerful, defiant man he cared for so deeply.

"Don't worry, Anders. You'll understand," the monotone voice continued, "The templars will teach you how to control yourself."

Over his shoulder, Anders heard footsteps and the clanking of heavy armor, followed by Varric's voice saying, "Oh, shit." He turned and saw templars circling the group and his sorrow began dissolving quickly into anger as Justice awoke, ready to battle.

"This is the apostate," the man Anders once knew so well accused.

"NO!" Anders bellowed. His eyes glowed blue and he dropped to his knees, overcome with rage. He ripped his staff off his back and used it to pull himself to his feet, as Justice took over Anders' mind and body.

"_**YOU WILL NEVER TAKE ANOTHER MAGE AS YOU TOOK HIM!"**_ Justice roared and he flung a fireball at the group of mages closest to him.

The battle that followed was a blur to Anders. He was acutely aware that Hawke was at his side firing powerful electricity and rock spells, which nicely complimented his own use of fire and ice. Varric was on the other side of Hawke and was picking off templars from a distance, as Bianca volleyed bolt after bolt into the approaching enemies. Meanwhile, Fenris and Carver charged forward, cutting through with huge swings of their weapons, preventing them from reaching Hawke and Anders. The fight raged on for what seemed like ages, until finally, Fenris knocked the templar Captain's helmet off with a powerful blow, just in time for Varric to fire a perfectly placed arrow between the man's eyes.

Anders was panting and staring at the dead templars in front of him while Justice receded and he regained control of his mind and body.

"Anders?" he turned around to see Karl staring at him in disbelief, the monotone voice from earlier gone, as though he was no longer Tranquil. "What did you do, Anders? It was like you brought a piece of the Fade into this world."

"Yeah, Blondie. What in the name of Andraste's flaming tits did you do?" Varric asked incredulously.

Anders turned to Varric who was staring at him with a surprised look on his face. Looking at Carver and Fenris, he could see shock mixed with anger, as they shot daggers into him with their eyes. Suddenly, he felt very self-conscious about his outburst and he let his gaze drop to Hawke. To his surprise, she wasn't even looking at him. Her eyes were focused on Karl and she had a pained look on her face.

Turning back to Karl, he answered, "It's true, I have… special circumstances. But, that isn't important right now. What happened, Karl? How did they get you?"

"The templars here in Kirkwall are much more vigilant than the ones in Denerim. They found a letter I was writing you," Karl explained.

Anders' heart sank. _It's my fault. It's all my fault._

"I'm too late. I'm so sorry, Karl. I'm so, so sorry."

"You can't imagine how awful it is, Anders. All the color, all the music of the world, gone. I would gladly give up my magic, but this…" Karl shook his head and gazed into Anders' eyes with a solemn and pleading look. "You have to kill me. I don't know what you did, but it's fading. Please."

"Karl. No. I can't –" he began, tears forming in his eyes. He started to take a step backward, when he felt Hawke's hand at his back, holding him gently but firmly in place.

Anders looked at Hawke, who was staring back at him. Her expression was somber and her eyes were wet with tears of her own. When she spoke, her voice was soft but she spoke with conviction, "Anders. Being Tranquil is a fate worse than death. You know that as well as I do. Give him peace."

He knew she was right, but it didn't stop him from feeling like someone had just plunged a dagger into his heart.

"Quickly, Anders! It's fading. You have to do it now!" Anders turned back to face Karl. He nodded mournfully and as he took out the dagger he kept in his coat, he witnessed the light in Karl's eyes fade and his face become expressionless. In the monotone voice that made Anders sick to his stomach, Karl asked, "Anders? Why do you look at me like that?"

"Goodbye, Karl." Anders replied and stabbed the blade into him. _I'll never forget you_, he added silently to himself.

Closing his eyes and willing himself not to breakdown right there, he addressed Hawke, "We should leave before more templars come."

He knew once they got back to his clinic, Hawke would probably demand an explanation about his outburst. As sympathetic as she'd seemed then, it was only natural that she'd want to know why he had suddenly started glowing blue and shouting in a voice that wasn't his own. He sighed and began the descent down the staircase to the balcony.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Hawke

Hawke silently followed Anders out of the Chantry and toward Darktown. His eyes remained glued ahead of him and his expression was distant and cold. She found herself wanting to comfort him – to hold him and tell him she understood and that everything would be okay. But instead she simply walked beside him in silence.

Hawke was no stranger to witnessing the very substance of a person she loved vanishing before her.

-Three years before the Blight began, when Hawke was just shy of 21, her father had contracted a rare illness during one of his trips into the Korcari Wilds to aid the Chasind folk. The sickness ravaged his body for weeks during which time Hawke tried everything from healing potions and balms to attempting to perform powerful healing spells her father had been teaching her. When one thing didn't work, she would stay up all night reading, trying to find something that would heal her father. Try as she might, however, her attempts were in vain. His fever never broke and he was unable to eat; his breathing was ragged and his racing heart made it difficult to sleep. When his body would finally give in and allow him to rest, he would almost always wake up moaning in pain. And despite all of her efforts, Hawke could only watch helplessly as the strong man she loved and admired deteriorated before her.

By the time death came to claim Malcolm, he was only a shell of the man he used to be. Hawke had been at his side, as she had been every day since he had fallen ill. He was bedridden because his body was far too weak to hold his weight and he was painfully thin due to his inability to eat. With a strained and raspy voice, that was nothing like the rich and golden voice Hawke was used to hearing from her father, he called her over to him.

"Hawke, my sweet girl, come here," he had called. Hawke immediately set down the potion she was working on and sat on the side of her father's bed. His eyes were dull and lacked their familiar passionate spark.

"Yes, Father? I'm here," she had answered, holding on to her father's now frail hand.

He smiled weakly at her and placed his other hand on top of the one holding his. "You make me so proud, you know? I know you'll keep our family safe when I'm gone."

"That won't be for a long time, Father." she had told him. Her voice wavered as she recognized an uneasiness and severity to her father's voice that she had never heard before. _He's won't die. I won't let him_, she told herself.

Hawke felt tears welling in her eyes when she heard him chuckle sadly and a somber smile swept across his face. "Oh, sweetpea, I wish that were true." He frowned, "I'm sorry, my girl. I'm not going to make it through the night."

Hawke closed her eyes tightly and shook her head at her father. "No," her voice had cracked. She opened her eyes and the tears began flowing, streaking down her cheeks as she wept. "That's not true," she had spluttered. "You're not going to die. You can't die. You're going to live." Then in an almost inaudible whisper she added, "You have to. I need you, Papa."

"Shh, my girl. It'll be alright," he tried soothing her. "I wish it didn't have to be this way, but my body cannot fight this illness any longer. You'll be fine without me, you've grown into such a strong woman."

"Please, Papa," she had cried, "Hold on just a little longer. I'll find some way to cure you. I will –"

Her father laughed, "That's my girl. Never giving up, even when things are hard." He placed his hand on her cheek, "But, listen to me, Karina. There is nothing more that you can do. This sickness is determined to take me from this world and so it shall. Be strong. It's up to you to take care of your mother and your siblings now. Do you understand?"

She looked into her father's dying eyes and nodded, "I understand, Papa. I promise I will protect them. I promise I will make you proud."

Her father closed his eyes and smiled, "I know you will, sweetpea. I love you, Karina."

She laid her head down on her father's chest, listening to his heart beat and feeling his chest rise and fall. "I love you too, Papa," she whispered and she stayed there until she felt his body go still and she knew he was gone.

In the days that followed her father's death, she had been inconsolable. Her mother, Leandra, Bethany and even Carver tried to talk to her, to make her feel better. They tried to tell her everything would be okay, but she didn't want to talk to anyone or hear their comforting words. She wanted to be left alone with her thoughts and finally ended up shutting herself in her room for 3 days before finally coming out. –

The memory of her father's death, of the shell of a man the disease had left behind, and how she had felt afterward kept her from trying to console Anders about Karl. She remembered how angry she had been and wanted to give him some space. _Besides_, she told herself, _he doesn't even know me._

When the group reached Anders' clinic, he entered without a word. Hawke stopped and turned to the rest of her companions, telling them to wait outside while she went in to talk to Anders.

"Are you certain that's wise, Hawke?" Fenris asked her, "After all, we all saw what he just did in the Chantry. "

"Fenris is right, Sister," Carver added in, "That mage is dangerous. He could –"

"That _man_ is grief stricken." Hawke retorted, not bothering to hide the irritation she was feeling at the two warriors' insensitivity to Karl's death. "This is precisely why I'm going in alone. I don't know what happened, but the poor man doesn't need a lecture right now. He needs a friend. Now wait here. I'll be back in a moment."

The now chastised warriors mumbled a half-hearted apology and Hawke turned around and entered Anders' clinic.

She found Anders sitting down on the edge of the bed he had healed her on earlier in the day staring at the ground. As she approached him, he looked up at her and as his sullen amber eyes met hers, she could feel the pain of a man hanging on by a thread to keep from falling apart. In a broken voice, he addressed her, "It's all my fault. I know that. So, let me guess, you're going to grill me now on what happened back there. On why I lost control."

Hearing the anguish in Anders' voice was breaking her heart and knowing now that he blamed himself for Karl's death made her want to cry. Sure, she did want to know what the hell happened back in the Chantry, but she wanted Anders to be okay first and to make him see that he was not to blame.

"Anders," she said calmly, walking toward him and stopping when she was standing directly in front of him. "That's not why I'm here."

"Then, you must want your maps. Like I promised," his brow furrowed and he began to rise.

Hawke placed her hands on his shoulders and held him down firmly, preventing him from standing up. "I'm not here for bloody maps or for an explanation. I'm here for you."

Anders looked up at Hawke like a confused child, as though he didn't understand what she had just said. Hawke stayed silent as she watched Anders' eyes analyze her face. After a moment, he sighed and whispered, "Thank you." Then, he broke his gaze and stared absentmindedly past Hawke, obviously still torturing his himself with the idea that Karl's death was his fault.

She sat down on the bed next to him and after they sat together in silence for a while she said softly, "It's not your fault, Anders." She felt Anders' head turn and his eyes staring at her as she spoke. "I know you think it is, but you're wrong." Hawke turned and met his gaze.

"What?" he asked, as though he'd completely forgotten Hawke was sitting there with him.

"When my family fled Lothering because of the Blight, there were four of us," she began. "You've met my brother, Carver and myself. Mother made it with us to Kirkwall, but my sister, Bethany, died trying to protect Mother from an ogre." Hawke closed her eyes and shuttered, as the image of her sister being picked up and crushed, then thrown aside like a ragdoll crossed through her mind. She opened them again and continued, "After we killed the beast responsible, I tried to console my mother and she yelled at me that it was my fault. Her words pierced my heart like a knife and I spent a lot of time blaming myself for Bethany's death. Mother has since apologized for blaming me and I'm gradually accepting the fact that there wasn't anything that I could do."

"I'm sorry, Hawke. I – " Anders started, but Hawke held up her hand to stop him.

"I'm not telling you this story to make you feel sorry for me. I'm telling you because it does get better. It won't be easy and it will take time but you'll come to accept the fact that Karl's death is _not_ your fault." Hawke held a hand tenderly to his face, "You're a good man, Anders. Don't let misguided guilt tear you apart."

Anders brought his hand up and covered Hawke's as a single tear escaped from his eye and trailed down his cheek. "Hawke, I don't know… I can't…"

Hawke smiled a mournful and knowing smile at Anders, "I know. You need time. It's okay. I'll come back later to check on you." She pulled her hand away and he nodded at her.

For some reason she felt compelled to kiss him on the cheek and when she did, she felt Anders' breath catch. "You'll be okay," she whispered, "I promise." Then, she stood up and left Anders alone.


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you for the reviews and the follows/favs. :)**

Chapter 6

Anders

This was the second time Hawke had left Anders staring at the door to his clinic in shock. His heart was racing and he brought his hand up to touch the place on his cheek where Hawke's soft lips had made contact. _What was that about?_ he wondered.

Anders turned his gaze back to the floor and thought about what she had said. Hawke's voice had sounded so concerned and her eyes looked as though she was pleading with him to believe what she was saying. She said it wasn't his fault, that he wasn't to blame for Karl's death… that he was a good man.

He stood up, feeling suddenly angry. "A good man," he scoffed aloud, "How in the Maker's name does she know whether or not I'm a good man? She knows nothing about me. She doesn't really know who I am beyond the ex-Grey Warden, apostate healer living in Darktown…" his voice trailed off as he thought about how in his rage Justice was able to take him over in the Chantry. Sitting back down on the bed, hanging his head in shame, he murmured softly, "She doesn't know _what_ I am."

Anders placed his head in his hands and rested his elbows on his knees. He imagined Hawke's face when he had stolen glances her way while they were walking back from the Chantry. Originally, she looked like she had wanted to say something to him, but couldn't formulate the words. Her eyebrows had formed a crease in her forehead and her mouth had been in a terse line. He'd felt her looking at him but he had been afraid to make eye contact. Anders had been worried that she was going to confront him about Justice right there or worse, would try to make him talk about Karl. In either scenario, he didn't think he would have been able to keep from breaking down. But, she had said nothing. Hawke had simply walked silently beside him.

When he'd peeked at her again, her expression had changed. She'd looked pensive and mournful, as if she was remembering a distant, painful memory. Anders wanted to ask her about it, but he didn't know what he'd even say to her or if she'd even tell him.

Anders sighed and laid down on his side on the bed. He didn't have the energy or the willpower to walk to his bedroom in the back of the clinic. Staring ahead of him, he turned his memories to Karl. Karl had not only been his mentor when they were both in the Ferelden Circle together, but he had quickly become Anders' best friend and for a brief time lover. To know that he was unable to save Karl, that he had been too late, that he had been forced to kill his one time companion – it was too much for Anders to bear. He turned over and quietly wept until sleep overtook him.

In sleep, Anders was plagued with some nightmares about Karl, but much to his confusion, most of his dreams concerned Hawke. In some of the dreams about Hawke, she would be looking at him with the somber, sorrowful look he had come to know over the last day; he would hold his arms out to her and she would step slowly into his embrace. In others, it would be Anders who was sullen and forlorn, while Hawke gingerly caressed his cheek and her eyes reflected understanding and comfort. In others still, Hawke would be the flirtatious and playful woman who had smiled warmly and laughed generously with him before he had mentioned Karl – in these dreams, they somehow always ended up naked with their limbs intertwined and her head nuzzled against his chest.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep for, but somewhere amongst his dreaming he heard a faint voice calling his name, which caused him to stir. Anders tried to ignore it, to go back to dreaming about Hawke, but the voice grew louder and soon there was a hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him.

"Anders?" the voice calling his name was familiar and as he rolled over and opened his eyes, he knew why. Hawke was there, standing over him, her blue eyes staring into his. He blinked away the sleep in his eyes and propped himself up on one elbow to study her. She had changed clothes again – she was wearing loose brown trousers, similar to the black ones she'd had on the night before, and a plain white tunic which had three buttons on top. The buttons were undone, which allowed Anders an appreciated view of cleavage. Her hair was tied back in a simple knot. As usual, she managed to look effortlessly sexy. He met her stare again and was vaguely aware of the fact that due to the dreams he'd just been having about Hawke and that she was now standing right above him, he was sporting a mild erection. _Good thing I have thick robes_, he thought to himself.

She gazed into his tired eyes for a moment longer and then smiled at him. "Well, good morning, Sleeping Beauty. For a minute there, I thought I was going to have to kiss you to wake you up," she teased.

Anders couldn't help but smirk at her as he responded lazily, "If I close my eyes again, can I get a kiss anyway?"

The room filled with the sound of her pure and crystalline giggle, "Maybe if you're lucky, princess." She turned away from him and set down a small satchel she had been carrying on the table next to him. "Are you hungry? I brought you some breakfast."

_Hungry for you_, he wanted to say. Instead, he simply asked her, "You brought me breakfast?"

"Mhm," she responded, "I thought you might want something to eat."

Anders watched as she pulled out several small rolls, a plate, a knife and an apple. He found himself amused that she thought to bring eating utensils with her. He smiled playfully at her and teased, "You know, I do have plates and knives of my own."

She turned back to him and huffed, "I didn't think it would be polite to go rummaging through your clinic."

"Why not?" he replied with an ironic grin, realizing that she had already entered his clinic while he'd been sleeping. "You've already broken into my clinic to serve me breakfast."

Hawke placed her hands on her hips and raised her chin in a faux-offended manner, "It was unlocked, thank you very much." She turned her gaze back on him and giggled again. Then she placed the rolls, apple and knife on the plate and handed it to him. "Now, don't make my trespassing go to waste. Eat."

Anders took the plate with one hand and maneuvered himself so he was sitting up on the edge of the bed. He placed the plate in his lap and picked up one of the rolls. After taking a bite, he realized just how hungry he was. It had been almost a whole day since he'd eaten last. Not that he hadn't planned on eating, but first he was distracted by Hawke almost dying outside his door. Then, after she'd left he couldn't stop thinking about her and he'd forgotten to eat. And after what had happened in the Chantry, eating was the last thing on his mind. Now, he was stuffing his face with the food Hawke brought him.

Anders was so busy shoving bites of roll into his face that he'd forgotten Hawke was still there. It wasn't until he heard her giggle again that he was brought out of his feeding frenzy. He set down the roll he was working on and looked at her as seriously as he could, "Is something amusing you, sweetheart?"

"Oh not at all," she said, trying to stifle a smile. "I just wasn't aware you were part mabari."

He flashed her a large, flirtatious grin and retorted, "Sweetheart, there are a lot of parts of me that you don't know about."

Hawke moved so she was standing between his knees. She placed two fingers on his knee and walked them downward toward his crotch, while smiling coyly and inquiring, "And what parts might those be?"

Anders tensed, his erection hardening, the closer her fingers moved toward it. Placing his plate on the bed next to him, he allowed his hands to slide up to Hawke's hips, pulling her toward him and she entangled her fingers in his hair. Maker, he wanted her and he was about to let her learn about a particularly favorite part of his, when a familiar voice resounded in his head. _"She doesn't know about me."_

Justice. Shit. Justice was right, of course. She didn't know about how he'd merged with the spirit, she didn't know that he wasn't just Anders – that he and Justice were one. He sighed in frustration and leaned his forehead against Hawke's stomach, just under her bosom. As badly as he wanted to take her right there, he felt wrong doing it when she didn't know the full truth about him. He closed his eyes and said, "Justice."

Anders felt Hawke's confusion, as she loosened her grip in his hair and asked, "What?"

He pushed her away from him and looked up into her curious blue eyes. "Justice," he repeated. "That's why I lost control last night in the Chantry. Justice is a part of me."

A confused smile covered Hawke's face and her furrowed eyebrows caused a cute little crease to form at her forehead. "I'm sorry. I don't understand. We all have a sense of justice, right? That's what helps us determine right and wrong. It's why –"

He shook his head and she frowned. Anders had never told anyone about Justice before, he hadn't needed to. Now, here he was, about to tell his secret to a woman he'd met not even a full day before. And even though they were strangers, he was afraid that once he told her, she would simply take her maps and leave. _"That's what we want, Anders." No, that's what you want. "It is what must be."_

Anders sighed and began explaining, "When I was in Amaranthine, I met a spirit of Justice. He was trapped outside the Fade and after a time we became friends. He recognized the injustice that mages face across Thedas." He recognized a flicker in Hawke's eyes, the same flicker she'd had when she had told Anders that she would help any mage in need.

That flicker was quickly overtaken with confusion again as she asked, "Justice was a spirit? Not a demon?"

Justice stirred angrily at the implication that he may be a demon. _"This woman dares to call me a demon?" Calm down, Justice. She's trying to understand._

Anders stood up and continued, "No, not a demon. Just as there are demons who prey on our weaknesses, there are also benevolent spirits that embody our virtues: compassion, fortitude –"

"Love?" Hawke interrupted, her expression slowly changing as she began to understand what he was saying.

Anders was taken aback by her interruption and couldn't help but smile in spite of himself. "Yes, love," he replied, "but also justice." He moved so he was standing behind her, his back to her back. He didn't have the courage to look her in the eye and explain to her what he'd done. "To live outside the Fade, Justice needed a host. I offered to help him. We were going to work together, to bring justice to every mage child ripped away from their families to be sent to the Circle."

He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and he turned to find Hawke's blue eyes staring at him. Understanding was written across her face as she prompted him in a calm voice, "But?"

He stared at her for a moment, unsure what to say. Anders had expected her to turn and run, to scream and call him an abomination, to demand her maps and leave forever. But, instead, Hawke was standing there with her hand on his shoulder, patiently waiting for him to finish. He swallowed before continuing, "But, I guess I had too much anger. He… changed. Now, when I see things that have always outraged me, that I could never do anything about… he comes out. And he is no longer my friend, Justice. He is a force of Vengeance and he has no grasp of mercy."

Hawke stared at him for what seemed like ages as she processed what he'd just told her. She took her hand off his shoulder and walked backward until she was leaning against the table. Her blue eyes stared pensively into his own amber eyes and her mouth had the faintest hint of a smirk. Anders couldn't take the silence anymore, "Please, Hawke. Say something."

"No wonder you were cramming those rolls into your gullet," she giggled, "You're eating for two."

Anders couldn't believe his ears. _Is she laughing at me? I've just finished telling her that I let a spirit inhabit my body – a spirit that now takes over when I become enraged – and she's laughing?_

While normally, Anders found Hawke's glittering giggle adorable, at the moment it annoyed him. "This isn't a joke, Hawke," he scolded. "I took a spirit into my body, not knowing what the consequences would be. Now, when I lose control of my emotions, he takes over."

Hawke arched an eyebrow at him and teased, "Oh, you're cute when you're frustrated."

_Oh, the damn cute thing again?_

Anders was irritated with her. He felt Justice surfacing as he stalked toward her, closing the distance between them until their bodies were nearly touching. A blue glow fell over his eyes as he fumed, "Nothing about this is cute, Hawke."

Then, as matter of fact as she could have been, Hawke simply said, "You're glowing again."

Throwing his hands in the air, Anders let out an exasperated sigh. He closed his eyes to help him focus, to push Justice back. He ran a hand through his hair before opening his eyes, his gaze boring into hers. "Damn it, Hawke. This is serious. I'm a dangerous man. What I did with Justice was dangerous. I'm a danger to everyone around me. That includes you." He was panting, his expression pleading with Hawke to comprehend the danger around him.

Anders felt his whole body stiffen, when Hawke suddenly wrapped her arms around him. "Anders," she spoke, her voice was soothing and confident, "I told you yesterday; you are a good man." She released him from her embrace and gazed back up at him. "Yes, you took a spirit into your body and now it has warped," she continued, "but you did it with a good heart. Every mage in Thedas _does_ deserve justice. They deserve to live freely like every other man, woman and child. Both of you recognized the need for change and thought you could help each other – he could help you fight against the plight mages face and you could provide him with a body. A rather nice body, I might add." Anders opened his mouth to protest, to remind her what he had done in the Chantry, but as if she was reading his mind she cut him off and continued to speak, "Last night in the Chantry wasn't your fault. Karl did not deserve the fate he received, but that is a price we risk paying to be free. Fighting the templars was inevitable. What would you have done had Justice not taken over? Simply stood there and allowed them to make you Tranquil? To take you to the Circle? To the Void with that. Those bastards got what they deserve." Her brow furrowed as that familiar, angry spark briefly twinkled in her eyes.

Anders wasn't sure what to say. The irritation he had felt toward her earlier had transformed into something else. Something he couldn't identify. He didn't understand why she didn't grasp how dangerous he was or why she insisted that he was a good man. Both of those things made him want to scream with frustration. But, she had explained the situation at the Chantry so logically, as though it was obvious. When she described the mages suffering, she said so with passion that easily rivaled his own. And it was these thoughts that made her all the more attractive in his eyes, that made him want her.

He searched for his words and finally said, "Wow, I wasn't expecting that."

She grinned and the angry spark in her eyes transformed into a playful twinkle, "What? Were you expecting me to go running and screaming out of Darktown."

Anders shrugged his shoulders and smiled sheepishly, "Honestly, yes. I hadn't thought to meet a woman who would look past my… circumstances."

Hawke smiled coyly and leaned into him, making the distance between them razor thin. "Well, given these circumstances," she purred," I may just end up screaming."

Her words mixed with the sultry, seductive look in her eyes, made Anders manhood stand at attention. He closed his eyes and when he opened them a dark desire clouded over his warm amber orbs. He peered into Hawke's eyes and brought his hand slowly up to untie the ribbon that held her hair. As he pulled the ribbon out, he ran his fingers down a chocolate brown wave that caused him to glide his finger tip down her neck and over her collarbone, stopping as he reached her tunic. Hawke shuddered lightly and her face flushed, as Anders murmured, "Maker's breath, you're beautiful."

Anders leaned Hawke backward onto the table as he pictured what he wanted to do with her. He would kiss her – her lips, her chin, her neck, her breasts – he would make her squirm and pant as he teased her breasts and her nipples. Then, he'd slide down her trousers and her smalls and bury his tongue in her, while his thumb would tease her swollen nub. He'd make her moan and beg for release and once she exploded around him, he would bury his member inside her over and over again until she screamed his name.

Yes, Anders knew exactly what he wanted to do and as he was leaning down to kiss her small, delicate lips, a voice boomed in his head. _"Distraction. You must stop this Anders. Give her the maps."_ _Shit._

Knowing Justice was right and cursing himself for letting it get this far with Hawke, he stopped. His forehead was pressed against hers and he could feel her warm breath on his face. "Thanks for breakfast," he breathed. "Let me get you your maps."

Hawke was panting, clearly hot and bothered about what had almost just happened. She nodded against him and he stood up and walked to his bedroom at the back of the clinic to get her maps.

_Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Even if Hawke doesn't see the danger, I can't pursue things with her. I'll only break her heart,_ he scolded himself as he grabbed the documents from a small nightstand drawer near his bed.

Anders walked back out into his clinic and saw Hawke was still slightly flustered, but she was doing an impressive job pretending not to be. The sight of her alone in that state made Anders want to throw the maps aside and continue right back where they'd left off. But, he kept his composure and handed her the maps. "These are all of the documents I have of the area."

She nodded, her voice wavering ever so slightly as she took them and replied, "Thank you, Anders. It's been a pleasure."

With that she turned on her heel to leave. _That's it. She's just going to leave and I'll probably never see her again. "It's for the best, Anders. Now you can focus on our work." But… _

Just before she reached the door, Anders called out to her, "Hawke?"

She turned with a curious look on her face and responded, "Yes?"

"If you, uh," he stuttered and cleared his throat before continuing to speak, "If you find yourself in need of a healer again, please, don't hesitate to come find me. I'll be here in my clinic."

Hawke grinned at him, "I'll keep that in mind." Then, she gave him a playful wave and left the clinic.


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you all for reading and following the story! I really appreciate it. And thank you for your reviews. I'll try to keep updating as much as I can.**

Chapter 7

Hawke

Hawke shut the door to Anders' clinic behind her and walked quickly around the corner, where Anders wouldn't be able to see her if he decided to open it again. Once she felt she was sufficiently out of Anders' possible sight, she leaned her back against the wall and slid down until she was sitting on the ground. She was shaking and her heart was pounding. _What the hell?_

Staring at her palms, she thought about Anders. Hawke thought about the spark she felt through her core when Anders had slid hid hands on to her hips and when he'd traced down her neck and chest. A fire had ignited in her as their bodies touched and his erection had pressed into her abdomen. She pictured his face, the molten stare that had made her heart skip a beat and the lust that would have made her knees jelly, as he'd laid her down so carefully but with such determination. She could barely breathe when he'd leaned in to kiss her, his warm breath whispering against her skin making every inch of her tingle with anticipation.

And then he'd stopped. _Why in the name of Andraste did he stop?_ She closed her eyes and imagined his face again. The expression on his face when he had ended their intimate moment had looked strained and conflicted. It was as though some other force was keeping him from acting out his desire. And then there was the way he'd called after her. There'd been a sense of urgency and pleading in his voice, as though he was asking her not to leave him for good, when he'd offered up his services to her again if she ever found herself in need.

"Bah!" she let out an exasperated sound. _If I find myself in need of a healer_… she mused bitterly.

Hawke found herself somewhat irritated at Anders' sudden rejection. Her irritation was in part because her senses were still heightened due to a lack of sexual release. She had half a mind to turn around, walk back into the clinic and demand that Anders finish what he started, but her pride wouldn't let her.

Hawke was not inexperienced when it came to intimate interactions. She'd learned early on that to get her way, she merely needed to bat her eyelashes and act the vixen – it was a point her and Isabella agreed on wonderfully. Most of the time, once she'd gotten what she wanted, she simply walked away. But occasionally, she'd be in the mood for a some fun and she'd make some bloke's night. It was always on her terms though and she always remained in control of herself and the situation.

For some reason, with Anders it was different. She hadn't been able to concentrate on anything other than him – his proximity to her, his hand in her hair, his fingers running down her neck, his breath on her skin. Where she'd intended to seduce him, he'd somehow turned the tables on her. She was putty in his hands and that thought was as frustrating and embarrassing for Hawke as it was fascinating. Anders had aroused her in a way she'd never experienced before.

_How the blazes did he have such an effect over me?_ she asked herself.

Hawke sighed again and stood up. She still had to deliver that witch's amulet to the Dalish and that meant trekking up Sundermount until she found the clan. Besides, she figured keeping busy was a sure fire way to make herself feel better and get Anders out of her mind.

"And if not, there's always the Hanged Man later," she muttered to herself as she began walking back to Lowtown to gather her companions and head to Sundermount.

* * *

"Nug sits in the mud, nug wiggles his ears; you catch the nug, he runs away! Nug gets to live another day!" Hawke was singing. Loudly.

Isabella was laughing and clapping, encouraging Hawke to keep singing, while Varric was staring at her in disbelief.

"Andraste's flaming arse, Hawke!" he exclaimed. "I haven't heard that song since I was a boy! Where did you pick it up?"

"It was in a book my father had," Hawke slurred. "Traditional Dwarven Folk Songs!" she giggled as she gestured broadly with her hands to emphasize the title.

"You're even more fun drunk, Hawke!" Isabella laughed and put her arm around Hawke.

"I'm not drunk," she retorted as she proceeded to knock over a small bowl of nuts that had been sitting in the middle of the table. Isabella arched her eyebrow and Hawke burst into a fit of laughter. "Alright," she managed between breaths, "I may be a little bit drunk."

In truth, Hawke was more than a little drunk. Her trip to Sundermount hadn't gone at all like she had anticipated. She had assumed she would just walk into the Dalish camp, give their Keeper the amulet and leave. Instead, when she brought the amulet to Keeper Marethari, she was informed that she had to climb up to the top of Sundermount and perform some Dalish "ritual for the departed." Hawke didn't see that she had much choice in the matter, so she agreed and Marethari sent her First, Merrill, to help them complete the task.

Marethari had also requested that Hawke take Merrill back Kirkwall when they'd finished and Hawke had reluctantly agreed to that too. It was only later during their voyage up the mountain that she'd learned that Merrill was a mage – a blood mage. This had angered Hawke. Merrill was enthusiastic and seemed innocent enough, but Hawke believed her naivety put her at even more risk to becoming possessed by a demon. Originally, Hawke thought she'd just leave the blood mage in the alienage and be done with it, but Merrill had this way of talking that made Hawke feel like she was looking over a lost puppy. She just couldn't help but feel like she was responsible for this elf now too.

Then, there was the amulet itself. As it turned out, the bloody witch was inside the amulet the whole time. Flemeth had babbled on about change and fate and chance and some girl, Morrigan, who was apparently her daughter and a whole lot of other things that Hawke simply didn't care about or understand. Then, she'd turned into a dragon again and flew off.

And to top it all off, she never once was able to get Anders out of her mind. So, as soon as she'd made sure Merrill was settled in the alienage, she'd headed to the Hanged Man where she proceeded to drink as many pints as she could. Hawke knew she'd regret it in the morning, but she hoped that this would get Anders out of her system for good because if ale from the Hanged Man couldn't make you forget your worries, she didn't know what could.

* * *

Another four days went by and Hawke was still as perplexed and intrigued by Anders as she had ever been. Getting drunk hadn't helped at all and so she'd gone back to trying to keep herself too busy to think about him.

She'd helped Aveline stop a series of ambushes for the guard, which ultimately led to the removal of Captain Jeven as Guard-Captain for corruption. She assisted Isabella in retrieving some stolen cargo for a friend of hers. And she couldn't count the number of gangs she'd stopped from preying on innocent victims. But, her mind always somehow wandered to Anders.

Hawke finally decided to pay him a visit and see if he was willing to live up to his offer of assistance, when an elf in the alienage requested aide in tracking down her half human-half elf, apostate son, Feynriel, before the templars found him. She figured if anyone would be understanding of the fear the poor boy must be going through, it would have to be Anders.

As she approached the clinic, she began to feel anxious about seeing Anders again. _Pull yourself together, Hawke_, she scolded herself and took a deep breath before entering.

Once inside she saw Anders sitting at the table on the left side of the room, working fervently on some potion or another. Her heart fluttered, as she stared at him, his deft hands working quickly to pinch and poor various roots and ingredients, his expression focused and concentrated. She found that her attraction to him had only grown since she'd last seen him and now she had the overwhelming desire to see what else his hands were good at.

_Oh, Maker, Hawke,_ she thought, blushing in spite of herself, _What are you? A ten year old school girl?_

She shook her head and approached Anders. He didn't seem to notice she was behind him so she bent down and asked into his ear, "What are you working on?"

Hawke's voice caused Anders to jump and spill the potion he was working on all over the table.

"Shit." he grumbled, while she tried not to giggle. "Can I help you with someth – Hawke?" he turned around and his annoyed expression turned to one of surprise and his eyes lit up when he realized it was her. "What are you doing here? Other than ruining my potions."

"I need your help with something," she replied with a smile, "That is, if you were serious about coming to you."

"Is someone injured?" he asked and she could hear the slight alarm in his voice.

"No," Hawke answered. "At least not yet." She explained to Anders how Arianni said Feynriel had been plagued with nightmares and demons. When she'd called for the templars to take him to the Circle to protect him, he ran off and now he was being hunted. "While I don't want to see the boy go to the Circle, I also don't want him to fall prey to the demons or get killed by the templars. So, will you help me?"

With a big, lopsided grin that made Hawke's heart melt, Anders replied, "Sweetheart, you had me at 'save an apostate from demons and templars.'"


	8. Chapter 8

**Sorry it's taken so long for this chapter! Your reviews, follows and faves are appreciated as always. :)**

Chapter 8

Anders

"Is there… any chance you'd help me find the Dalish? That's where I was trying to go." They'd found the boy, Feynriel, after tracking him to some slavers in Darktown who were more than willing to divulge the location of the cavern on the Wounded Coast after that broody elf had started glowing and stuck his hand through their leader's chest. Hawke, Isabella, Carver and he had immediately left for the Wounded Coast and found the cavern relatively quickly. After careful negotiations, which constituted Isabella throwing a well-placed dagger between the eyes of the slaver leader, and killing the rest of the slavers in the cavern, Feynriel was now pleading with Hawke. "If anyone can help me, it would be Dalish."

"If you don't whittle down those ears, they're apt to shoot you on sight," she replied. Hawke's face had taken on a thoughtful expression and Anders wasn't sure if she was merely teasing the boy or if she was thinking out loud.

"I don't care!" Feynriel cried, desperation coloring his words. "I would rather be killed by the Dalish than made Tranquil by the templars!"

Hawke smiled warmly and leaned in as though she was going to tell the boy a big secret. "Me too," she whispered and gave him a wink. "C'mon," she gestured toward the exit of the cavern and started walking, "I know Keeper Marethari. I'll make sure she takes you."

"You're going to help me?" Feynriel asked incredulously. "Oh, thank the Maker it was you my mother hired to find me."

"You're going to take him the Dalish, Sister?" Carver was staring at Hawke, clearly appalled that she was going behind the templars' backs. "What about –"

"Yes, Carver. I'm taking him to the Dalish." she stated matter-of-factly, cutting her brother off and shooting him a look that said she was not going to hear any of his complaining. Carver shot a scowl back at his sister and followed her silently.

Anders was also silent, but that was because he couldn't believe what had just happened. He was in awe of Hawke. The entire day, he'd been feeling guilty, knowing that he was going to be sending this poor boy to the Circle. He hated the Circle, but for an untrained mage like Feynriel, he had figured it was the only way the boy could get some proper training. Justice hadn't helped matters either, criticizing his willingness to help send another mage to the Circle, claiming that Anders was aiding the templars. And just like that, Hawke had incinerated that guilt and replaced it with a feeling of pride. Even Justice seemed awe-struck.

"_No templars?" No, templars, Justice. "No Circle.." Nope, no Circle._

Anders watched Hawke. She was talking with Feynriel, her expression was calm and soft but her body signaled that she was alert and ready to protect the boy if she needed to.

He smiled. _See? I told you Hawke's not bad. "Perhaps…"_

* * *

Anders hadn't quit smiling since they left the slave caverns and taken Feynriel to the Dalish. When they'd reached the clan, he'd been a little worried that they would reject the boy, but the Keeper seemed to respect Hawke and accepted Feynriel among the clan without hesitation. As soon as they'd returned from Sundermount and reached Kirkwall, Carver had immediately sulked off muttering under his breath about Hawke's sanity and Isabella loudly announced that she had a date at the Blooming Rose, leaving Anders and Hawke alone to tell Arianni her son's fate. Arianni responded by giving Hawke a grateful embrace, which seemed to surprise her, and thanking them for helping Feynriel.

Now, it was getting dark and he couldn't help feeling like he needed to protect her, so Anders insisted on walking Hawke home.

"No, Anders. I'll be fine." she stated.

"Please, Hawke," he pleaded with her, giving her a small pout and big puppy-dog eyes. "Let me walk you home. It's getting dark and all manner of miscreants will be roaming the streets, just waiting for a chance to attack a pretty girl like you."

"What makes you think they won't attack both of us? I'm sure they'd be more than willing to accept you as a trade off for me" she asked him, still unconvinced that she needed an escort.

"Oh, I don't think that at all. They're bound to attack either one of us. But, if I'm not with you, how will I fight the blighters off you?" he replied in a tone that was slightly more possessive than he'd intended and he really hoped she hadn't noticed.

Hawke scoffed at him, "As sweet as your offer is, Anders, I can take care of myself. No group of thugs is going to get the best of me."

"Sweetheart, do I really need to remind you how we met?" he grinned at the scowl that developed on Hawke's as she remembered. "As much as I enjoyed caressing your body, I'd prefer you to be in one piece and awake next time." She blushed at his words and as much as he liked the effect, he knew it was wise not to dwell on what he'd just said to her. "Now, if you're quite done arguing with me, I'm going to walk you home, alright?"

"Anders…" she began softly.

Unsure whether she was going to comment on his enjoying her body or simply continue to protest, he interrupted her. "Please, Hawke. If you won't let me walk you home for your safety, at least let me do it to sate my manly pride."

She nodded and smirked, "Okay."

Anders gave her a satisfied smile and gestured for her to start walking.

As they walked side by side and left the Alienage, he beamed at her. "You're amazing, you know that?"

"Oh?" Hawke turned her head toward him and cocked an eyebrow, she had a curious smirk on her face. "And why's that?"

"The way you handled Feynriel today," he explained. "Amazing."

She gave him a sad smile and shook her head. "I just did what was right. What my father would have done."

"And that makes you incredible, Hawke. You could have easily taken him to the templars and let them deal with him. But, instead, you took a chance," he took her by the arms and turned her to face him. "You saved him from not only the demons and templars, but you saved him from the Circle too. You saved him from a life of misery and torment."

Hawke shrugged and looked down, "My father risked his life escaping the Circle here. I couldn't just send the poor boy there. There was another option, I took it."

"Exactly," Anders tilted her chin up so he could look into her eyes. "Hawke, when you asked me to help you today, I agreed because I didn't want Feynriel to wind up a victim. All day I struggled with the guilt of knowing I was helping send a free mage to the Circle. Then, all at once, because of that decision, you made that guilt go away. You made me feel suddenly so proud. I could have kissed you for that."

"What stopped you?" The playful twinkle returned to Hawke's eyes and she had a mischievous smirk on her face that made Anders want to envelop her mouth with his.

He tried to think of something to say, to move the conversation away from the idea of the two of them kissing, but he couldn't think of anything. After a few seconds, he blurted out, "Well, we weren't exactly alone. I don't think your brother would have been too fond of seeing that."

Anders knew he'd failed when Hawke brought her hand up to his chest and pulled him closer to her. He could feel her breath, as she whispered, "Well, we're alone now. What are you waiting for?"

He tried to hold back, but the sultry look in Hawke's eyes, the proximity of her body to his, the way the moonlight made her skin glow beautifully, broke him. Anders placed his hands on either side of her face and closed the distance between their mouths in a soft, but passionate kiss. Hawke's hands slid up his neck and tangled in his hair as she returned his kiss. They slowly explored each other's mouths, as their tongues danced in tender circles around each other.

Her lips were soft and Hawke leaned into him, letting out a soft purr as his erection pressed into her abdomen. Anders wanted nothing more than to drag her home with him so their mouths could explore each other more and he could find out what other sounds he could evoke from her. But, he knew he couldn't. He knew he'd already gone too far. He couldn't bear to let her get any closer to him, let her fall in love. He couldn't bear to hurt her.

Reluctantly, he pulled back from their kiss and looked down at her. She was biting her lip again and she was looking expectantly at him. Her eyes told him that she was ready to let him do whatever he wanted. He hated that he had to push her away now.

"Hawke…" he croaked. Anders throat was dry and his heart was pounding. He didn't know what to say to her, nothing he could come up with in his head seemed sufficient.

Before he could speak again, Hawke, with a large and sultry smile, placed one finger over his lips and gently grabbed his erection through his robes with the other hand. He groaned at the sensation, a sound that apparently pleased her because she started to gently move her hand against him.

It took every ounce of self control in his body for Anders to fight the urge to simply take her right there in the street and instead grab her hand and move it away from his robes He shook his head, looked her in the eyes and managed, "Hawke.. no."

Her brow furrowed and Hawke let out a confused laugh accompanied by an awkward smile. "What?"

Anders sighed. "Look, Hawke. It's not that I'm not enjoying this –"

"Clearly," she chortled, glancing down toward his crotch.

Trying his best to ignore her remark, he continued. "But, we can't do this. Not that I don't want to. But, this will only end badly. I'll only end up hurting you."

She gave him a mischievous grin. "Hurting me? Don't worry, I like it rough."

_Maker, she's not making this easier._

"That's not what I mean by hurting you, sweetheart," he replied. "Maybe a year ago, we could have had something. But, I'm not that person anymore. I'm who you saw in the Chantry. I'll break your heart and that would kill me just as surely as any templar."

Hawke frowned, staring at him with her beautiful blue eyes that were mixed with a number of emotions as she tried to understand him. She looked confused, contemplative, hurt. Anders wanted to reach out to her and apologize for letting things get as far as they had. He wanted to tell her that he understood if she was mad at him, but to please not hate him. But, before he had a chance, the frown on Hawke's face turned upward and she smiled politely at him.

"Okay," she said softly, nodding her head. "C'mon, Gamlen's house is just a little farther. Mother will be worried."

They walked silently the rest of the way. When they reached Gamlen's house, she turned to him again. Standing on her tippy-toes, she leaned into him and kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you for walking me home, Anders," she smiled. "I'll drop by the clinic again when I need you."

"Anything for you, sweetheart." he replied, as she turned and walked into the house.

"Fuck." Anders began the walk back to Darktown, reprimanding himself the whole way for his actions. "Anders, you fucking idiot."


End file.
